Property of Castiel
by Angel-Hunteress
Summary: Cas sure has a tight grip. Light hand print!kink, light crack!fic.


The first time it happens, Dean freaks.

He's changing, his shirt bloodied from the run in with a werewolf. In the mirror, he notices something very off.

"What the hell?" he shouts, bringing a hand up to the shoulder.

His _bare_ shoulder, where only hours before Cas' hand print had been. Not that he _wants_ it or anything. It's always a bitch to explain to chicks that he picks up. Some have even left, creeped out by it. Whatever.

Still, it's been a part of his body for a good year at least, and he'd like to know what the hell happened to it.

Which, he finds out very quickly.

A flash of a deep red in the mirror causes him to pause, and he's near frantic. Was he growing something? Did he develop some skin thing or…?

He holds his forearm closer to the mirror, examining what he had thought was a burn from the last hunt.

But with a closer inspection, he realizes that there are five obvious finger prints, slender in shape, curled around his arm.

"Cas!"

A few minutes later, he hears the sound of wings, and turns. Castiel is standing there in his trench coat, looking at Dean with that annoyed/serious expression he always wears.

"It moved!" And fuck it if Dean sounds like a girl who got her first pimple, but this is _freaky_.

Castiel only stares at him, confused. Dean sticks his forearm out, where the mark now is. "Your freaky angel mark! It freaking moved!"

Castiel steps closer, inspecting it. He lightly covers it with his own hand, fingers curling around Dean's arm lightly.

Shit.

Dean shivers from the touch, feeling warmth from the mark and Cas' hand, and he has to step back to stop from giving a small moan.

Cas looks back up at Dean. "I believe it happened when I pushed you out of the werewolf's path."

Yeah, Dean remembers. It happened only a few hours ago. And by 'pushed' Castiel means 'gripped his arm and threw him into a wall while he went to show off his angel skills.'

"So you're saying…" Dean's head is reeling, and he looks back down at the new mark. "Great. As if being groped by an angel once wasn't fun enough."

Castiel cocks his head to the side again. "It was not my intention to cause this, Dean. I assure you it was an anomaly. It will not happen again."

"It better not," Dean grumbles, but when he turns around Castiel is already gone.

—-

The next time, it moves to the crook of his shoulder and neck. Sam can't stop teasing him for it, and Dean's grumbling in the car.

Dean's of course grateful that Castiel all but threw him backwards as the giant leech monster thing (Sam can call it by its name they gave it in the books, it's still a freaking leech monster) was in the process of sucking his life out of him. But that doesn't make the red hand print that's curled over his neck and shoulder go away any faster.

When he gets out of the car, he calls Castiel, who almost immediately appears.

"Cas, seriously," Dean starts, tilting his neck to show Castiel. "I thought you said it was a one time thing!"

Cas stares at it, and moves his hand up to touch it, and Dean feels a flutter in stomach jerks away. "Woah, woah, it's yours, okay?"

Castiel looks up at him through dark eyes. "I have never seen this happen before. Perhaps now that I have my powers back, something is different."

"Yeah, well, just look into it, okay?" Dean snaps at him. "I'm not gonna be able to get laid because _this_ is kinda hard to explain."

Cas' lips tug upward, and Dean is starting to feel kinda pissy because he's getting crap from Sam and now Cas, though in the back of his mind he's glad that at least Cas is getting a sense of humor, even at his expense.

"I'll see what I can do," Castiel says, and before Dean can say anything Castiel is already gone.

Fuck. He already knows that going to the bar is out.

Dean stares at it in the mirror for a half hour straight, gently probing it with his fingers. Since he can only see the front part of the mark, the scar of slender fingertip, it looks more like a patch of hickeys, and Dean has to think of a better metaphor because now he can't picture anything else but Castiel in his lap sucking bruises on his neck.

He feels bad for going down this train of thought, knowing Cas is angel, but fuck if he can't find this even slightly arousing. Cas placing his hand prints all over him, marking him in different spots…

Dean groans, feeling a tightness in his pants.

And now he can't even get rid of that by finding some random stranger in a bar without having to explain this whole 'property of Castiel' mark.

Great.

—-

He steps out of the shower, and is toweling himself off when he notices it's gone from his neck.

But there, on the small of his back, on his hip is a sideways hand print. One that's identical to the one that had been on his shoulder for all that time.

And not only that, there is _another_ hand print on his other hip.

"Fucking…Castiel!" He shouts, and this time Cas is there within seconds, and he has to catch the towel from falling in his surprise.

"What is it?" Castiel asks, impatiently. "I have—"

"This!" He turns around, showing the marks on his hips to Cas. "Come on, Cas, really?"

Castiel stares at them, and moves closer to Dean. Dean can feel Cas standing behind him, already in his personal space, hot breath ghosting on his neck, and he turns his head, looking at Cas through narrowed eyes.

"Cas, what—"

But then he stops when he feels Castiel's hands, flush over both marks, curving around his hips, gently, as if he's holding Dean.

The touch is warm, hot, and double what he felt the first time Castiel touched the mark. He can't help the breathy moan that escapes his lips, and his head falls back, warmth and pleasure coursing through his body.

"The witch's hex. I pulled you out of the way." Castiel's voice is hot in his ear, yet so innocent that Dean pulls away from the touch.

He swallows, thickly. "Yeah, I remember that."

But Castiel's gaze is lingering on Dean's hips, and Dean has to suppress the groan as he realizes that all he's wearing is a towel.

"I had not known the first time that this would happen," Castiel says, as if trying to apologize.

"The _first_ time?" Dean asks. "You mean…you knew the whole…?"

"I…" Castiel is still staring at the hand prints, and Dean deliberately makes the towel slip a notch, noting the way Castiel's breathing shallows, noting how Cas licks his lips, and Dean traces the movement.

Castiel looks up, meets Dean's eyes, and his expression is torn between a deer caught in the headlights and something animalistic and feral.

"You _like_ this, don't you?" Dean watches Cas, watching every movement. "You like seeing your hand prints all over my body, like to mark me as if I'm yours—"

In the next motion, Dean's back is pressed against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, towel abandoned on the floor and Cas is flush against his naked body, eyes a dark stormy ocean of blue.

"Dean, you _are_ mine."

And Castiel seals his lips over Dean, and it's fast and rough and powerful and Castiel's hands are gripping his hips, hands upside down on the mark but it's enough to make Dean groan out in pleasure.

—-

The morning after, Dean untangles himself from Castiel, wandering into the shower before Sam comes back.

He smiles in the mirror at the new locations of the hand prints.

One on his upper thigh, the other curved over his ass.

Cas sure has a tight grip.

With a grin, he walks back to the bed, wondering just where else those hand prints can go.

* * *

**A/N: Hope ya'll like that! I tried making this porny but I couldn't for some reason. I wrote this in like...twenty minutes, so it's pretty choppy but I hope you like it! Leave a review, lemme know what you think!**


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